Jessica was monitoring SHIELD chatter when a loud cry pierced the silence of the motel room. She stood up to go check on the baby but paused when Clay stood as well.

"I'll check on her," he said, already moving toward the door connecting their rooms.

"She's probably hungry," Jessica said. When he didn't answer, she walked over to the doorway.

Clay was holding Daisy in one arm, bouncing her slightly. She sniffled as she looked up at him, her big dark eyes fixed on his face. Jessica had noticed how the baby watched him whenever he was in her line of sight. It was as if she knew that this was her father even though Clay said he hadn't spent much time with her.

He was certainly making up for that now. As soon as Jessica arrived in Austin, she checked into a motel. While it wasn't fancy, it was clean and nondescript and the other guests paid no attention to a woman traveling with her baby. Two weeks later Clay returned to the States and joined them, and in the ten days since then, he'd jumped to do everything for Daisy himself. He was the one who fed her, bathed her, changed her diapers and got her to sleep. He sat and talked to her, telling her about his family and the grandmother for whom she'd been named.

It broke her heart, and she'd never been one to succumb to sentimentality. Still, she knew that Clay would have to give her up because keeping her with him was too dangerous. He hadn't said the words aloud, and he hadn't relayed his long term plans to her, but it was just a matter of time. He'd already been in contact with the priest from his family church.

Jessica turned and walked over to the small kitchenette, where she retrieved a bottle from the fridge and heated it. She took it to Clay and sat on the bed as he fed the baby. He burped her after she finished eating. Then he just sat with her, swaying his arms back and forth to soothe her to sleep.

"I can't even imagine how difficult this is for you, Clay. I know how you feel about family. But we can't stay here indefinitely," she finally said.

"I've made arrangements," he replied in a low voice. "Three more days, Jess. I know she won't remember but I will."

Natasha checked the time: three minutes. That's how long it had been since she'd returned to the car to find Skye was not there. She'd learned to rely on an atavistic sixth sense that had kept her alive over the years, and it was screaming that something was very wrong. One glance at Quartermain confirmed that he was also on edge.

She tapped the radio to alert the perimeter team. "Package secured. Going back for the late bird."

"Negative." Hand's voice came over the radio. "The priority is delivering the package."

Clay cursed and muted the radio. "I'm going in."

"No, I'll do it," Natasha said.

"You're defying a direct order."

"Not the first time," she replied.

Just then Trip's voice came over the radio. "We have a signal near the grotto."

Natasha was out of the car within seconds. She cursed herself for delaying those few minutes because if Skye had set off the homing device, she was in real trouble. The lights from the outdoor kitchen and pool lit up the surrounding area, and she could see people milling about near the glass atrium, but the grotto appeared deserted.

The lengthening shadows around the stone structure would have hidden Skye from view if not for the white dress, now covered in a blood stain large enough that Natasha thought, for one horrifying moment, that she was too late.

She dropped to her knees beside Skye, feeling for a pulse. It was weak but there, and Skye's eyes fluttered open before closing again.

"Fuck," Natasha muttered, pulling Skye's hands away from her stomach to assess the damage. "Skye, you need to stay awake." She was surprised that her hands were shaking as she set off her own signal, knowing that Trip would be nearby in case he was needed.

"It doesn't hurt anymore," Skye said in a voice that was barely audible.

Natasha looked up when Trip emerged from the wooded area behind the grotto. They worked together in grim silence to bind the wound with the supplies Trip had. Then they quickly carried Skye along the shadowy perimeter back to the town car. Natasha situated Skye so that her head was on her lap and covered her with a jacket to hide the bloodstains as they passed through the security gates.

"She's had a little too much to drink," Natasha told the guard as he passed their phones back to them. She hoped that the darkness and the deep red shade of her own dress hid any blood from carrying Skye back to the car.

The guard waved them through with a disinterested nod.

They were barely back on the road when Skye suddenly opened her eyes again and whispered, "Please."

"We're going to get you help," Natasha said, brushing her hair back.

Skye made a wheezing noise. Her head turned toward Natasha as she said, "Tell you."

Leaning down, she asked, "Tell me what? Do you know who did this?"

Skye coughed, and Natasha was alarmed to see that she was coughing up blood. When she saw that Skye was struggling to raise her head, she leaned closer.

"Tell Grant… sorry," Skye whispered. She was clearly struggling to speak now as she licked her lips, but she wasn't finished. "Anderson."

A wave of anger swept through Natasha. There was no reason for Anderson to have been there, and no way that a SHIELD foot soldier would be there alone, which meant that someone inside SHIELD had been at that party. It had to be someone high level because Quinn wouldn't bother with anything less.

She was going to find that little bastard, and she would find out who else was there. Then she would make Anderson pay for this.

When Quartermain careened into the medical bay at the Triskelion, a full medical team was waiting for them. Coulson, May, Hand and Hill were also there.

"Oh, God," Coulson said, horrified as Skye was being removed from the back of the car. "What the hell happened?"

"I found her like this next to the grotto," Natasha said.

They all followed the medical team as they wheeled Skye into the building. Quartermain kept pace with the gurney. He was holding Skye's hand, which struck her as odd. Coulson and May were walking on the other side of the gurney, their expressions grim.

When they reached the doors to the surgical area, everyone fell back except Quartermain.

"Sir, you can't come in here," the doctor told him.

Natasha walked over to Quartermain. "Let them do their jobs."

His eyes were glassy, and his hand shook as he reached out to smooth Skye's hair away from her forehead. The blood around her lips was a stark contrast to her ashen complexion. She didn't appear to be aware of anything happening around her until Quartermain pushed her hair back, so Natasha was startled when her eyes fluttered open.

Quartermain drew in a short, choked breath. "You'll be okay," he told her as she stared back at him for a moment. When her eyes drifted shut he let go, and the medical team rushed her back to surgery.

"I'm sorry that this happened, but protocol exists for a reason," Hand said as she looked at Natasha. "I gave you an order that you willfully disobeyed."

"You got the package," Natasha replied. "And I don't leave people behind."

Quartermain turned to her then, and she was once again struck by his agitated demeanor.

"What did she say to you?" he demanded. "Did Quinn do this to her?"

Natasha had reached a decision in the car, resolving to keep Anderson's involvement out of the official report until she could figure out what was going on and who she could trust. She had considered talking to Quartermain about it until she saw how emotional he was, and she realized now that he wasn't going to be clearheaded enough to deal with this.

"I don't know what happened," Natasha told him. "She just told me to tell Ward she was sorry."

"Sorry for what?" Coulson asked.

She shook her head. "I don't know." Whatever it was, she suspected it was personal and not relevant to what happened.

"We need to detain Quinn," Quartermain said, his voice rising.

"On what grounds?" Hand asked. "This entire mission was black ops for a reason. We can't bring him in without admitting we sent a team into his home."

"Skye is not just an agent!" he shouted. He crossed the room to stand before Hand. "She's my daughter. So please, help me find the son of a bitch who did this to her."

Natasha glanced around the room, noting that Coulson, May and Hill were unsurprised by his sudden admission. However, she guessed from the look on Hand's face that she was just as shocked by that news as Natasha was.

Hand stared back at Quartermain and then nodded. "If Quinn did this, I promise he'll pay for it even if we have to go through back channels."

"Thank you." He suddenly looked exhausted. "I have to call my sister."

Silence fell over the group when he walked away.

"Skye will be in surgery for a while," Maria finally said. "We need to debrief and figure out what happened tonight. There's a conference room down the hall we can use if you want to be close by."

Coulson nodded and looked over at Trip, who had followed them in. "Take one of the quinjets. Find Ward and bring him back here."

May hadn't said a word since they pulled up outside, but Natasha could tell she was angry. Quartermain was pacing across the room; in his emotional state he was of no use to her. Coulson was holding it together, but he was far more upset than Natasha could ever remember him being. Trip was going after Ward but there was no way in hell he'd be objective when he arrived.

That left Hand and Hill since Fury was out of the country at the moment. She trusted both of them but she knew Maria better. And since Maria knew Skye was Quartermain's daughter, she decided she was the best one to hear Skye's final words.

Natasha waited until after the meeting, which was brief. She caught Maria's eye before walking out of the room and down to a vending machine. She put in money and waited for two coffees, one of which she passed over to Maria, who had followed her.

Maria grimaced as she took a sip. "If this is what our medical staff is surviving on, they deserve a raise."

"I've had worse," Natasha said. "Skye gave me a name before she lost consciousness. Anderson – level 4 foot soldier. Do you know him?"

"Anderson?" Maria nodded. "His record is clean, but he's a real asshole. There's an official reprimand in his file – sexual harassment complaint." Her disgusted expression revealed her dislike of the man.

"He shouldn't have been there and we both know Quinn wouldn't bother with someone like him."

"No, he wouldn't. Someone bigger was there. The only question is if Skye saw them or just Anderson."

"Until we know who we can trust, I think this should stay between us," Natasha said. "I'll work on finding Anderson and I'll get him to talk."

"Agreed. Coulson and Quartermain aren't objective right now."

Natasha glanced over to the waiting room where everyone had gathered. Ricky had been part of the perimeter team. He'd separated himself from the main group but had settled into a chair in the hallway. "Trip is friends with Skye, and Ward is emotionally compromised. If I need help, I'll bring Mathis in."

Maria drained her cup and tossed it in the recycling bin. "Keep me updated. When you find him, take him to one of the black sites. And make sure he feels every bit of pain he inflicted on her and then some."

Natasha smiled. "With pleasure."

Alanna rushed through the hospital's trauma wing until she reached the surgical unit, where she paused to look around for her brother. A persistent feeling of dread had settled over her from the moment she'd heard Clay's voice, telling her that Skye had been hurt in the field. Whatever happened, she knew it was bad.

She spotted him in the hallway near the double doors that led to the surgical area. He sat, arms braced on his knees, head bowed. She felt frozen in place, scarcely daring to breathe, that earlier chill spreading to her limbs. There was blood on his shirt – Skye's blood.

The hallway felt miles long as she walked toward him. When she reached his side, she sat and took his hand but didn't say anything.

"She's in surgery," Clay said in a flat tone. "She'll probably be there for a while."

"What happened?" she asked.

"She was stabbed. With all the blood… it was more than once."

Alanna swallowed hard, nausea churning in her gut. She tried not to imagine the fear Skye must have felt. "Do you know who?"

He raised his head and looked at her. "No. She was alone when it happened. But I'll find them, and when I do I'm going to kill them."

She knew her brother well enough to know his dry-eyed resolve was as good as a promise. He wouldn't care whether SHIELD sanctioned his actions, either. She didn't care about the person who hurt Skye; her concern was Clay and how far he would go in seeking justice. It had taken him months to pull out of his downward spiral ten years ago.

She took a deep, calming breath. "I'm going to ask David to bring you a change of clothes. If it's this serious, I think we have to let the girls know, and the blood will scare them," she told him.

When he nodded she got up and walked down the hall. She called her husband first, grateful that he was still in D.C. She asked him to pick up the girls on his way.

After Alanna ended the call, she stared at her phone for a few minutes before she made a decision. She scrolled through her contacts and selected a number. It rang only once before she answered.

"Jessica? It's Alanna."

Grant glanced at his watch as the waiter cleared the table. Elizabeth had chosen a casual restaurant next to his hotel for dinner that night, claiming a fondness for their mom and pop style sandwiches and clam chowder. While the food was delicious, he suspected it was also because they wouldn't run into anyone who knew them there. It was a low pressure environment for all of them.

She'd brought her fiancé James with her, who was just as pleasant as he'd seemed on paper. Grant couldn't help thinking they'd both have to toughen up if they were to survive the years of Ward holidays ahead of them, all of which they'd be expected to attend.

Thomas was there with his wife Meg and their four-year-old daughter, Grace. While he'd met Meg once before, it was the first time he'd seen his niece. He'd expected the little girl to be shy with him since she didn't know him. Instead she'd been talking since he sat down. He couldn't help smiling as she chattered away while drawing on the paper tablecloth with her crayons.

"I don't remember any of us talking that much when we were kids," he told Thomas.

"Things are different at our house," Thomas replied. "I know the constant noise can be a lot to handle if you're not used to it."

"It's fine. She kind of reminds me of a friend," he said. He wondered if Skye was with her aunt and cousins this weekend or if she was still consumed with work.

Grace dropped a crayon and he leaned down to pick it up as she talked about the Christmas tree she was drawing.

"Thank you," she said when he handed it to her.

"You're welcome." He looked up to see a quizzical look on Elizabeth's face. "What?"

She shook her head. "Nothing. It's just… you're different now."

He raised a brow. "Different?"

"In a good way," she assured him with a small smile. "How long have you been in D.C.?"

"About six months. It's the longest I've been stateside in a long time."

"Do you like it?" Thomas asked.

"Sometimes," he admitted. "I have time for things I haven't had much time for in the past, like going out for a beer or watching a game. But an office job and oversight wasn't what I was trained for."

"And your friend?" Elizabeth asked.

Grant hesitated out of habit more than anything. Skye had urged him to be more open with them in areas where he could be. It wouldn't hurt to tell them a little of what his life had been like in the last few months.

"Her name is Skye. She's a computer programmer and analyst who sometimes works with me," he explained. "She talks a lot, and she's one of the smartest people I've ever met. She also loves the holidays and when she dragged me along with her to pick out a Christmas tree, somehow I ended up with one in my apartment."

Elizabeth smiled at that. "I can't really imagine Christmas without a tree."

"Neither can she," Grant said. He smiled back and shrugged. "I still work long hours, but being in one place hasn't been so bad, overall. I spent Thanksgiving with her family and mutual friends from work. One of them has a baby monkey. He surprised everyone by bringing it with him."

"Hey, hey," Grace said as she looked up at him with big eyes. "I like monkeys."

"So does Fitz. He named her Nakoma," he told her. "She's a capuchin monkey."

She wrinkled her nose. "Cappuccino is coffee, not a monkey. Mommy likes cappuccino."

"Capuchin," Thomas said, pronouncing it carefully. He typed something on his phone and held it out to her. "This is a capuchin monkey. You saw them at the zoo, remember?"

"Oh, yeah!" Suddenly she was off again, telling him about her zoo adventures.

The waiter brought coffee, and Grant realized that they'd been there for two hours. After the first half hour, when they'd all been getting used to being around each other again, it hadn't felt uncomfortable at all.

They were settling the bill when Grant looked up to see Trip walking toward him. He'd left word with Coulson about where he was staying and his dinner plans just in case they got any actionable intel while he was away. His stomach dropped as he met Trip's eyes - he knew it was bad, and he knew it was about Skye because Trip could have called him or sent a message if he was needed back in D.C.

The moment the others noticed Trip they stopped talking. Even Grace seemed to sense something was wrong.

Trip forced a smile as he nodded at them. "I'm sorry to interrupt, but we need you."

He had questions – a lot of them. He started with the most important one. "How bad?" he asked.

"It's bad," Trip said quietly. "She was in surgery when I left."

Grant threw some money on the table, his mind already in mission mode. "I just need to get my bag from my room."

"Grant?"

He turned back to Elizabeth, impatient to be gone. "What?"

She drew back at his abrupt tone, but then she reached for his hand. "I hope everything is okay," she said. "And if you need anything you can call."

Grant squeezed her hand. "Thank you."

Ten minutes later he and Trip were on their way back to the quinjet. Grant could have asked questions now that they were alone, but he knew the most important one couldn't be answered until they were back in D.C.

The most important thing was whether or not she would be okay.

A/N: I know it's been a while. I just haven't had a lot of time for fan fiction lately. However, I took the summer off so I could work on my writing. In addition to my original writing, I'm trying to address stories for various fandoms. I'd like to finish up this series and my AoS/Arrow crossover and then try to finish Under My Skin. I've got several Skyeward updates in various stages of editing, so I'll try to be quicker with the updates this summer. I did some on-the-fly editing here before posting. If you see any errors please let me know.

If you're still reading, thanks!

Up Next: Skye's condition takes a serious turn, forcing Quartermain to give Coulson more information on Skye's mother and the background of her people. Meanwhile, Natasha and Jessica track down Anderson for questioning, and Ward struggles as he realizes how deep his feelings for Skye really go.